


My Final Gift

by Fallencellist



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Suicide, noodle dragons at the end, will tear out your heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallencellist/pseuds/Fallencellist
Summary: **Heavy warning for suicide** A short piece written for mostly the purpose of pulling at your heartstrings involving Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada, two members of the rebooted Overwatch. Jesse does his best to keep his seclusive boyfriend happy, but things aren't as good as Hanzo shows on the outside. . .





	My Final Gift

The archer lingers above the watchpoint, perched at his usual spot with a bottle of sake in hand and his head hung low. He’s been missing from mission after mission, people starting to take notice of the absence of their bow-wielding teammate. They notice his absence in meetings and during meals. His brother has reported that he’s never in his room and Jesse says he always finds him in that same spot whenever he’s seen the elusive archer. Always perched up on top of the Watchpoint, staring aimlessly into nothing. 

Perhaps it is his way of dealing with the pain, with the ghosts of his past and the distaste he is met with everyday from some of the members, but it’s causing problems. Without his skills they are down another defense, down an extra member on their missions. It’s causing complications in planning, and it’s something that Jack doesn’t want to continue. 

One morning, Jack approaches Jesse, his visor off to reveal the scarred face, “McCree,” the old soldier sits down next to the gunslinger who is currently crunching on a bowl of cereal, “I need to talk to you about Hanzo.” 

“I know,” Jesse sighs, placing down the spoon in his hand before looking over to Jack, “Angela’s been hounding me about talkin’ to Shimada about his habits. Apparently, he’s been dippin’ a bit too much into the vices and won’t listen to her.” He couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed—everyone starts coming to him to try to talk to Hanzo. Granted, he’s the only one the seclusive archer talks to, the only one out of the whole damn group that can get the man to listen to them. Hell, Jesse’s the only one that can touch Hanzo without getting hit or having him flinch against the touch—he still flinches for Genji. 

Still, everyone seems to think Jesse’s the go-to guy for delivering messages to Hanzo, like he’s some sort of errand boy. 

“He’s been ducking out of too many missions—missions he has be assigned to,” Soldier states, his lips forming into a deep frown mixing with a scowl, “I gave leeway in the beginning but now it’s getting ridiculous. Tell him to get his ass onto the ship for the next mission or I’m personally kicking him out.” 

Jack stood up, beginning to turn around, “I didn’t like his presence in the beginning but if it wasn’t for Genji backing him up and how skilled of a soldier he is, I would have kicked him out sooner than now for slacking off.” 

Jesse bristles, a sneer curling his expression and eyes narrowing, “It ain’t his fault!” In moments he stands, the chair previously sat in clattering to the ground with how quick he stands up. A metallic finger points at Jack, anger rising in each word spoken, “The guy has everything fucking deal set against him and he still finds reasons to get up in the morning! We’re lucky he hasn’t gone and offed himself because of how shitty ya guys have been treatin’ him!” 

He doesn’t care to stop with the shocked look on the ex-strike commander’s face, continuing to keep his voice raised as others look over, “I’m a stubborn mule and I found it in my heart to forgive him like Genji’s been hounding us to do since before the Shimadas arrived!” His finger jabs into the old soldier’s chest, pushing him back a bit, “I think you’re just too fucking scared he’s going to end up like Reyes! You can’t get your head out of your ass long enough to understand that not everyone who has some darkness in them is going to end up like Gabe!” 

This makes silence fall over the room, eyes turning to see how Jack will react to the words. 

The blue eyes stare, slowly narrowing as his own anger rises to rival that of the younger cowboy, “You think it’s because he reminds me of Gabe?” He steps forwards, grabbing hold of Jesse by his serape, “If you think that’s the reason you’re the fucking blind one. I don’t like him because he’s proven that he only cares about himself—that he’s never going to be hero material. There’s always a bad egg within a family like his, and he’s as bad as they get!” 

He lets go of Jesse, turning his back as he starts to walk away, “Tell him that he has this mission, and if he doesn’t fucking wow me, his ass is grass.” Jess grimaces, watching the old commander stalk away, his anger clear in each step taken. He straightens out his serape, no longer feeling like finishing up his bowl of cereal. 

Cursing under his breath, McCree picks up the bowl and leaves it in the kitchen sink. It will be best to talk to Hanzo at least, make sure he knows what’s going to happen if he misses another mission. A hand runs through his hair, the other clamped to his hat as he moves out of the kitchen and into the hallways. Conversations start to rise in the dining room, a few people chattering to each other about what had happened. 

He shakes his head, ignoring the urge to yell more as he heads outside. The distant rumbling of thunder tells him that there is a storm on its way—and meant that the archer would be on his usual perch. His mind brings up the memory, Hanzo speaking to him when he is asked why he enjoys being out when there is a storm coming and when the storm has just passed. 

“It reminds me,” Hanzo’s voice echoes in Jesse’s mind, “ of when I was a young child. My father would spent the nights that a storm rumbled in the distance comforting me. It was the times he would be my father rather than the person I would be taking over for, my teacher. He told me that storms are energy gathered from the dragons of the South and North, and that no matter where I was, I would always have his protection.” 

“The smell reminds me of him, the rumbling sounds so much like his dragons when they purred.” It is reasons why Hanzo stays so high up both before and after the storm: he is closer to the heavens, reaching for that comfort he has lost. 

Jesse’s face is welcomed by a blast of cool wind as he pushes open the doors, the scent of oncoming rain filling his senses. It’s the ideal time for the archer to be out. He places the hat onto his head as he steps further out. Gaze trailing up towards the rooftops he catches sight of that familiar figure. 

Shit, he looks worse than normal. 

It’s always a hassle trying to get up to where Hanzo likes to stay, purposefully making it difficult for anyone who can’t climb walls like him or have some way to fly up to him. For McCree, it’s him scrambling up the wall making a complete fool of himself—his footing often slipping and bringing him down a few feet. Sometimes, Hanzo watches him why other times he doesn’t—at least Jesse dancing like a spider on a hot plate as he tries to climb amuses his sour boyfriend at times. Today, he doesn’t even catch a glimpse of Hanzo looking down. 

“Hey, sugarbee,” Jesse breaths out the words as he finally heaves himself up onto the rooftop next to Hanzo, “I thought you’d be at least down for food—or at least tryin’ to sleep.” Not many knew but Hanzo will often more than not sleep in Jesse’s room. It isn’t exactly the idea of Hanzo, it’s more Jesse wanting to make sure he’s okay. 

Too many times Jesse or Genji have found Hanzo close to death or in such a horrible state he hardly seems present. It worries them both too much, knowing that if Hanzo is left alone for too long with his own thoughts they could lose him. 

Jesse sits next to him, noticing the bottle of sake in the archer’s hand. His keen eyes can tell the bottle is almost empty, turning to look at the slightly dulled eyes, “Come on Han, you’ve been getting worse lately it’s concernin’ Genj and I.” 

To hear Hanzo say _‘I’m fine’_ or something along the lines means he’s not doing okay—to hear him say nothing could either mean he’s fine or he’s doing even worse. Yet, anything spoken besides the two words is the worst. When he says something else, it means his mind is tormenting him, stopping him from being able to accept that he’s moved on. 

“I’m not fine.” And somehow, he manages to make another tier to the scale of _how bad Hanzo Shimada is doing_ : when he admits he’s not doing well. 

Jesse leans over, putting an arm around Hanzo’s shoulder and pulling him close to him, “Shit honeybun. . . I haven’t heard you say those words before. must be really bad.” He gives a gentle kiss to Hanzo’s head, right where his head is saved on the side of his face. 

The archer doesn’t reply to this, just leans his head against Jesse’s shoulder, a quiet sob escaping the usually stoic and in control man. Jesse sighs, rubbing his arm across Hanzo’s shoulder and down his arm, comforting motions that he knows will help calm him. Though Hanzo hates physical contact, Jesse knows it’s a way to comfort the other. 

“I know darling,” he bumps his head against the other’s head, letting it rest there as he continues to rub the shoulder, “You’ve made progress. You’re working on getting better and that’s more than some could say.” The scent of cigarette smoke clings to Hanzo’s jacket, telling him that the archer has been picking up on that habit again. Maybe he’s had too much of an influence on Hanzo. 

“I’d hate to just add to the burden,” he waits a bit before speaking up, “but I’ve unfortunately gotta tell ya that you’re needed on the next mission. Jack’s fed up with ya missing it—says if ya don’t preform well in the next mission today he’s gonna kick you out.” 

“Let him,” Hanzo speaks, his voice soft. 

“Now come on Han,” Jesse frowns, shifting to look at his boyfriend, “Ya can’t just give up and leave. If ya go Genj will get sad,” his expression drops along with his gaze and volume, “I’ll get really sad and miss ya. . .” He presses a gentle kiss against Hanzo’s forehead, resting his own forehead in the place afterwards. 

“I don’t want ya to go.” 

Hanzo hums softly, glancing up slight, "Jesse. . ." He waits until there is a hum of response and those chocolate brown eyes looking to him, "If something happens to me—" 

"Nothing's gonna happen to ya," Jesse butts in, "You're going to be fine." 

"McCree," Hanzo hisses, that familiar annoyance with the cowboy present in his tone, "Listen. If something happens to me, I want you to talk to Genji." He lifts up his hand, resting it against Jesse's jawline, " He will have something to give you." 

____ 

It took a lot of convincing but Jesse is able to get Hanzo out on another mission with him, Pharah, D.Va and Ana. It’s a short mission, mostly making sure the escorted official didn’t get attacked by Talon. Despite the attack done by Talon, there is no other hitch with the mission, Hanzo showing off his skills as he takes down more than half of the Talon agents before they can even get near the target. 

It’s a successful job that would impress anyone—and does the trick to impress Jack, but still doesn’t stop the lecture that comes afterwards when they return home for missing the other missions. 

Hanzo doesn’t return to Jesse’s room until late at night, his hair down and looking excessively tired. McCree shifts in his bed, turning to face the archer as he pulls off the jacket. The gunslinger opens his mouth to greet his love before seeing all the scars and fresh wounds across the chiseled torso and arms—never any cuts on his left arm but his right arm looks worse for wear. 

“Honey. . .” Jesse frowns, sitting up in bed. His bare chest is exposed as the sheets shift to rest against his lower body, “Are those recent?” 

Hanzo flinches, pulling off his undershirt before taking off his pants, “I don’t want to talk about it, _please_.” That one word, _please_ , always meant he really doesn’t want to talk about it—and despite the worry Jesse agrees not to speak more on it. He shifts over a bit, making room as Hanzo settles onto the bed next to him. 

The two face each other, McCree gently pulling Hanzo into his embrace, “A’ight, we won’t talk then.” Like many other nights, the two cuddle close together, Jesse running a hand through Hanzo’s hair, sometimes his heart breaking as he hears those sobs slip from the stoic archer—and tonight is one of those nights. 

Jesse stays up, whispering sweet nothings along with his nicknames for his favorite archer until he can feel the steady breathing against his chest. Only when he knows Hanzo is fast asleep does he start to doze off himself. 

“G’night my dragon. I love ya so much,” Jesse kisses him on the forehead before closing his eyes to sleep. 

____ 

The sun hasn’t even risen when Jesse himself is roused from his peaceful rest by a coldness against his chest. It's been lingering there for a few hours, something he just figures was in his sleep. He pats around the side of the bed in front of him, his touch only greeted by the empty space of sheets and the mattress. Hanzo is gone. 

He bolts up, glancing around to see the archer’s clothing still draped over one of the chairs. The sound of running water makes him relax a bit. Hanzo is just taking a bath. Slowly, the cowboy shifts out of the bed and moves over to the bathroom door. 

“Hey Han,” Jesse knocks gently against the door, “mind if I give ya some company in there?” 

He waits for an answer, only hearing running water. No. . . it’s something more than just water filling up the tub—it’s water overflowing. His heart jumps into his throat, knocking again, “Han, darling?” Panic rises, hearing no response. 

Fuck! Jesse steps back a few paces before charging forward, ramming the door. He collides against the door without getting it open, “Athena!” he frantically calls out to the AI, “open up the bathroom door, now!” 

“Mr. Shimada asked me not to open it for anyone,” the AI’s voice responds. 

“Bullshit!” Jesse yells back, “Open it up now!” he throws his body against the door again, bashing against it but not getting it to open, “I need to get in there!” He steps back again to try, only to pause as the door slides open. 

Not a moment is wasted before he runs in, eyes widening at the sight before him. Jesse quickly runs over and shuts off the water, looking down at Hanzo. 

He sits in the water unmoving, his right arm resting on the rim of the tub, red oozing out from the littered cuts across his flesh. A generous amount of water has spilled onto the floor, leaving a slight red tint to the remaining water in the tub from the blood. 

“Fuck!” Jesse curses loudly, “Athena call Angela quickly!” He kneels next to the tub, hands shaking as he cups one around Hanzo’s cheek, gently pushing his head to face him. He feels cold. The hand moves down to his neck, feeling against it for a pulse. 

“No, no no no!” Jesse starts to panic as he feels no pulse beneath his fingers. He doesn’t hesitate as he shifts his position, reaching his mechanical arm into the water without caring what damage it would cause to put under Hanzo’s thighs why the other around the shoulders. He pulls the man out of the water, setting him down only a few feet away from the pooled water before beginning CPR. 

He compresses the chest before breathing air into Hanzo’s mouth, “Come on sweetheart! Don’t fucking do this to me!” He continues the process: compressing the chest and breathing his own breaths into the still body in hopes to bring life back. He’s still doing it as Angela comes in, trying everything as she works to pull him away. 

“Han!” Jesse pleads, hands gripping tightly around Reinhardt’s as the crusader comes in to help separate Jesse from Hanzo, “Han! Please!” Tears stream down his face as he winces, struggling to get out of the grip, “Han!” 

He watches as Angela takes Hanzo away, sobbing into Reinhardt’s arm, uselessly dangling in the grip. His sobs become louder laments as he is left along with the crusader, lowering his head so his hair covered most of his face from view. 

He remains this way for hours, held by his old friend to try to comfort him as Angela works. Jesse is moved out from the bathroom by Reinhardt and brought into the rec room, sat down on a couch as Ana comes over with a blanket to put around his shoulders and a cup of tea. The wreck of a cowboy refuses the tea, opting to burying his face in his hands. 

Eventually, he runs out of tears to cry, feeling drained and emotionally empty. He glances up only when Angela’s voice comes into his senses. This brings him to life for a brief flicker of a moment, throwing off the blanket and running over to her. 

“Angela, please,” he begs her, worry and panic heavy in his voice, “please tell me it’s something good.” Her expression doesn’t say it’s good—the way she avoids looking at him says it all. 

“N-no. . .” Jesse shoves past her and Ana, running towards the medical bay. He doesn’t stop to talk to anyone, doesn’t slow down as Jack yells at him to do so. He only wants to get to the medical bay, to Hanzo. 

The gunslinger bursts through the doors, eyes scanning the room for who he wants to find. When the brown hues fall onto the form of his lover, he’s instantly by his side. Machines around are turned off, an IV still in, but not supplying any nutrients or liquid to the body. 

Hanzo’s pale, eyes closed and unmoving. He looks almost. . . peaceful, laying there as his brain makes no signal for him to move, no signal to smile up at his lover being at his side. He’s gone. 

“Hanzo. . . honeybun. . .” Jesse sobs, his body finding a way to bring more tears to his eyes as he takes the cold hand in his, “Please. . . you can’t leave me.” The cowboy lowers his head, tears falling onto the white sheets, “Please. . . please don’t leave me Hanz, I. . . I can’t bear to lose you.” 

His gaze shifts to look at his lover’s still face, a hand cupping over the cheek, “Please. . .” He kept repeating the word, hoping that it would be enough to make this untrue, that the man who took his heart isn’t gone. 

The stillness never changes, never gives way to movement in the corpse. Hanzo is really gone. 

Jesse’s body shudders, all control falling away as he pulls the sill body into a hug, sobbing profusely. 

“Jesse?” Genji’s voice rises, a hand resting on his shoulder, “Are you okay?” The mentioned man glances over, shaking his head slowly. 

“’m not Genji. . .” His eyes turn back to the shrine, reading the kanji etched into the surface: Shimada Hanzo. A bundle of cherry blossoms sit against the base of the small shrine, gently waving in the sea breeze, “I’m far from okay.” He runs a hand across the surface, letting it drop down next to him. 

“I could have stopped him ya know. . .” His voice is heavy, his eyes never leaving that carved name, “If I would have been more aware I could still be standing next to him, not in front of his grave. Genj. . .” brown eyes turned, full of hurt, “I wanted nothing more than to make him happy. I wanted to give him the world, to be able to see how much of a gift he was—that he wasn’t just a murderer, but a man worth loving.” 

“You did,” Genji gave a sad smile to his friend, “even if he wasn’t happy with his life, you gave him a spark of hope. . . it’s just,” his own eyes fell, “he couldn’t fight his inner demons, he couldn’t forgive himself fully.” 

Genji shifts, grabbing hold of both Jesse’s hands and waiting for his old friend to look at him, “Hanzo told me that. . . if something happened to him, there was something I had to give to you.” He nods his head and guides Jesse back inside, heading towards Hanzo’s old room. 

Inside, the cyborg pulls out a small kit, looking to be something to make a tattoo, “It’s tradition, when somebody joins the Shimada family that they are given the mark of a Shimada.” His eyes meet McCree’s a weak smile forming on his lips, “Hanzo wanted you to have what he held dearest to him. He told me. . .” his voice drops as a sob rises up, “He told me that if he couldn’t do it. . . that I would be the one to give it to you. . . to give them to you.” 

“Them?” Jesse glances to the kit, seeing the shades of red within the box. He shakes his head, “I don’t care what it means, if it’s Hanzo’s last wish I’ll do it.” His mind feels heavy, both happiness and sorrow welling up in it—Hanzo wanted Jesse to be part of his life, part of his family. The butthead stuck up son of a bitch wanted to marry the poor ragged excuse for a cowboy. A faint smile spreads to his lips, nodding to Genji. 

___ 

The group runs onto the field, dodging bullets that fly towards them. They are in a stick situation: they’re surrounded by multiple groups of Talon troopers and with Widowmaker hidden and firing warning shots in their direction things are looking grim. 

Ana perks up a bit, hearing a familiar sound echo into the air. Her eye turns seeing McCree standing up tall, a small red glow in his eye and Peacekeeper aimed. 

“It’s. . .” Jesse’s voice echoes out. The others glance over, expecting to see the strange single bullet come shooting out of Peacekeeper. Their eyes grow wide as the glow from his eyes is mimicked off Peacekeeper and from his chest, “high noon.” 

A bright burst of light fires off Peacekeeper, taking shape into two large dragons, their roars echoing out as loud as a gunshot, devouring everyone’s vision in a red light. 

As the light fades away, the Talon troops lay dead, Jesse’s serape and the yellow ribbon tied around his metal arm whipping against the dying wind. He lowers his hand, giving a small smile and resting his hand against the left side of his chest. 

“Good job Kawa, Umi. . . Han would be proud of ya guys.”


End file.
